


The Undying

by Sar_Kalu



Series: A String of W.I.P's [7]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: AU, Gen, Harry Potter is DONE with this Shit, Hermione Granger is Shit at Acronyms, Jack Harkness has been on Earth way too long and is a Randy Bastard, Master of Death fic, WIP, brief mentions of literally all characters, but we love her anyway, immortality fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 13:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13718922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sar_Kalu/pseuds/Sar_Kalu
Summary: Harry Potter is known by all as the War Hero Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Just-Bloody-Die (although most people phrase it politer than that), and as a Potter, should have known that there was a bare an basic explantation for all of it - turns out none of it, the crazy teen life, the time travel, the UNDYINGness of his life was nothing but Genetics (and Hermione's rule breaking Time Turners).Fuck the Potter Luck, Siriusly, Harry's goddamn well done with all of this...





	1. First Meeting: The Unicorn, Cardiff; May 2008

_The Unicorn_ was an old traditional pub to the south of Cardiff bay, its old shop-front style windows were lead lined and filled with aged clear glass, illuminating the street with its cheerfully flickering light. The old worn sign hung in the same spot that it had for the past two hundred years, the white and silver unicorn on the signs surface was fondly re-painted every so often, the patrons oddly proud of the prancing mystical creature. The pubs deep green exterior was worn and faded, the paint cracked and peeling which helped ensure that none but the local population of south Cardiff visited its warm depths; the shabby exterior was oddly effective at scaring most strangers off. The warm light from the windows pooled out its front illuminating several of the local patrons who leaned against the handily placed high-tables and ledges, their pints of beer resting near their elbows as they watched the busy street with cheerful eyes and broad grins, their loud conversation washing over the sounds of city life. 

 

Inside the old pub a youth of about twenty sat against the wall, a thin mobile in his callused and scarred hand, proving him to be a man unashamed of hard work. His wary green eyes reminiscent of a soldier fresh from the battle-field travelled the length of the bar, it's shiny wooden surface well polished and worn reflected the light of the dull lamps that hung from the cracked and slightly off-coloured ceiling. Across from the young man, the bartender, a young woman of about twenty with a messy brown ponytail, winked cheekily at the youth as she pulled another pint of _Fosters_ for the local who leaned drunkenly against the bars surface. _The_ _Unicorn's_ scattered tables and chairs were filled with the usual Friday crowd, and several youths near the unlit fire place laughed raucously as one of their number was forced to chug his beer to the loud chanting of his mates. It was loud and cheerful, and the young man with the haunting green eyes smiled thinly to himself as he absorbed the atmosphere, tapping out another text on his phone, there was no rest for the wicked, and even less for him.

 

The young man's name was Harry Potter and he was several decades older than he appeared; his long, black jean clad legs were extended before him and thick leather boots encased his feet, the insides cased with heavy metal, protecting his toes from injury. His muscular chest was covered by a fitted black shirt that was worn and incredibly dirty, so much so that the black fabric was stiffened with all manner of liquids, the dark dirt ground in impossibly deep. The shirt would never be clean again, unless of course one possessed magic or a house elf. Harry had both. A wry smile twisted his lips as he read the annoyed message he had been sent by a colleague of his.

 

_UNIT has a new teleport, one that works. It's Sontaren tech that was salvaged after D last drop in. We're gonna actually loose them this time if they persist in this, H. DT_

 

Harry smirked, Dean Thomas had been attached to UNIT by Hermione, the Director of the Ministry of Universal Diplomacy, (fondly referred to by workers as MUD; Hermione was still not particularly good at acronyms) following the Christmas fiasco with the Sycorax. Apparently Hermione had less than enthusiastically stepped aside on that particular case and now regretted it immensely. Thankfully some alien doctor had dropped in and saved the day according to scuttlebutt. 

 

As Dean was the only muggle-born in MUD with three degrees, two of which were in astrophysics and anatomical biology, making him irreplaceable in UNIT's greedy eyes. Harry too, had been attached to UNIT around the same time as Dean and the two regularly updated the other on the more 'secure' items UNIT collected. Of the two, Dean was the most consistent in his disgust for the muggle's irreverent treatment of alien and superior tech, and it was only Hermione's high handed threats regarding his salary that kept Dean from hexing everyone who disregarded his warnings. Harry spent his time oscillating between excitably awaiting the muggles to accidentally kill themselves and feeling the irritating need to save their asses each and every time they landed in the fire. 

 

_Shouldn't you be celebrating the possibility? HP_

 

The reply was swift.

 

_HG would kill me. Besides, they don't even have the base code, you know what happens if they test it without that. DT_

 

Harry stared at the message in concern, he didn't know as much about technology as Dean did, but even he, an irreverent user of the 'higher form' of living, knew that teleports needed a base code. The lack of one could have... Consequences. Harry sneered at the phone, his eyes darkening with disgust. Muggles never changed, they always jumped the gun and were forever getting themselves in trouble. Harry often wondered if Voldemort didn't have the right idea, he was getting sick and tired of having to pull UNIT's arses from the fire as they stumbled from problem to problem like drunken sailors on a sinking ship. 

 

_Hang them all, if they get lost, they can bloody stay lost. HP_

 

Harry drained the last of his beer and signalled for another, the woman at the bar immediately dropping the other patrons pint in his hands unceremoniously as she hurried to fill Harry's order. Harry didn't even acknowledge the girls hopeful smile nor that she slipped a piece of paper with her number on it under his glass. She was pretty enough, but humans were so short lived, Harry avoided her eyes.

 

"Thank you." He drawled, tiredly rubbing at his eyes. The girl flushed and darted away, her cheeks a dark red, a broad smiled splitting her face.

 

Harry sighed heavily and turned his phone off, ignoring Dean's latest message that sat in his inbox, unread. Undoubtably it was another bitching rant about UNIT's consistent attempts to kill everyone and the chances in the planet surviving to the next millennium. Harry took a long pull from his pint and stared into the empty grate of the fireplace, the bricks were blackened with soot and cracked from heat exposure. The pile of cardboard and paper was small but messy, and Harry found himself trying to read the small print on each collapsed box, his green eyes tracing the lines and words carefully. He sighed again and let his head flop backwards, his messy black hair falling into his eyes and obscuring his vision. He was so tired.

 

"You know," a deep voice drawled, "I believe you made that girls night."

 

Harry's head shot up so fast and violently he nearly dislocated it from his shoulders. He found himself staring up at a tall man with neat brown hair and darkly laughing blue eyes, his perfect face shone with good humour and sculpted lips were twisted into a mocking grin. Harry bit back a sneer and raised a thin dark brow.

 

"Can I help you with anything?" He asked cooly.

 

The other man fell gracelessly and uninvited into the chair opposite Harry and grinned even more broadly. "I don't know, can you?" He asked roguishly. 

 

Harry smirked slightly, running his eyes over the fit body clad in old world clothing. The man wore navy blue slacks and an off-white shirt with red suspenders under a thick great coat, that if Harry wasn't mistaken, was from the nineteen-forties era. Oddly enough, the clothing suited the man, for all his rakish charm and good looks.

 

"And you are?" Harry drawled, his green eyes meeting the blue ones of his new acquaintance. As if he didn't know. There was only one name this man could 'own', and it was as obvious as the mans occupation.

 

The man grinned easily and he leaned back comfortably into the black leather of the armchair he had commandeered. "Captain Jack Harkness." He said calmly. "And you?" 

 

A Captain? How interesting, as Harry had heard it, Jack Harkness wasn't even his real name, and captain was certainly not his rank. Harry smirked mischievously, deciding to use the rank he'd been awarded after the Second Wizarding War and 'one up' his guest. 

 

According to the then Minister, Kingsley Shacklbolt, the awarding of an Order of Merlin First Class wasn't good enough for the 'hero' of the second war. So Harry had been saddled with yet another title, one that he put to good use when he aided both UNIT and MUD. Muggles respected titles of authority and apparently 'saviour' was presumptuous.

 

"General Harry Black." He said negligently, inspecting his nails.

 

He refused to use his 'real' name, he hadn't gone by Potter in about ten years anyway. After all, he couldn't exactly pass as thirty-eight years old, his true age, even if he tried and glamour charms only went so far. Besides, General Black was a well known military attaché with UNIT, and Harry knew that Jack Harkness would recognise the name as easily as he had recognised Jack's name, which was synonymous with Torchwood these days, although it had once been synonymous with an ex-con in 1920's America. Harkness wasn't as lily white as he liked to pretend.

 

"General Black?" Jack queried, curious. "As in the General Black on call with UNIT?"

 

Harry smirked darkly. "One and the same, Captain."

 

Jack barked out a laugh. "I come here to get away from work and run into the one man who I've been trying to pin down for six years now." Jack's voice was exasperated even as his eyes were knowing.

 

Harry's smirk deepened. He knew that Jack had been looking for him, in fact, he had been avoiding the Captain for far longer than the Captain had been searching for him. The Captain's situation was well known to the higher ups and was well used in the Torchwood institute. Besides which Harry had no desire to fuel Jack's irrepressible and extremely well known curiosity, because if the Captain dug deep enough, he'd surely find out that General Black and General Potter were the same person and that General Black was far too young in appearances to be the age his birth certificate stated. Which could cause several problems and more than a few awkward questions.

 

"So, what's a guy like you, doing in a place like this?" Jack asked curiously. "Surely a war hero like yourself should be amongst friends?" The knowing eyes turned into a full blown smug smirk and Jack leant back further into his chairs cushioning, assured in his knowledge. 

 

Harry froze. General Black was not a war hero. General Potter, however, was. His eyes raked Jack's lazily reclining form cautiously, how much did the immortal captain know? Irritation bloomed in his chest and Harry barely refrained from snarling in feral anger.

 

"Yes I know." Jack agreed having read the shock in Harry's vibrant green eyes and ignoring the anger that was clouding his fine features. "It's a matter of public record if you know where to look, General Harry Potter." 

 

Harry's name was spoken with respect and awe, although Harry still felt that there had been a mocking overtone to it and he bared his teeth accordingly. As it was, Harry had barely managed to keep from swearing in his shock and surprise, no one was supposed to know, though of any man to know, Harry supposed that Jack Harkness was hardly the worst. Despite this hardly reassuring thought, his eyes usually a hazel-green deepened to a dark forest green as his magic rose to confront the perceived 'threat'. For all the ten years that had passed since the war, Harry hadn't lost the instincts that came from being hunted daily by people out for his blood. And Jack Harkness was now in the unenviable position of being at best, obliviated by a furious master wizard.

 

"Wow, wow, wow!" Jack held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender. "I mean no harm, I'm just curious that's all."

 

Harry relaxed slightly. "Curious about what?" He asked cooly, his green eyes tracking Jack's every move. 

 

Jack sighed. "Where to start...." He mused, his own blue eyes absorbing every line of Harry's rigidly tense body. "Firstly I want to know if you're actually immortal or just un-kill-able." 

 

Harry frowned. "An interesting enough question, I suppose." Harry agreed tiredly, raking a hand through his messily knotted hair. "The first I suppose. I mean, I haven't aged, at all, in about ten years. And I've been 'killed'" he made quotation marks with his fingers, "several times since the war." 

 

Jack nodded as he absorbed Harry's words. "That's pretty rough." He noted. 

 

"No worse than yourself." Harry replied, tilting his pint in a mocking salute.

 

Jack blinked, and then rolled his eyes. "Of course you know," he groaned sourly, shaking his head with the self recreation of one who shouldn't be surprised.

 

"Of course." Harry replied with lazy amusement, tilting his half empty pint, watching the golden lager glow beneath the lights that peppered _the Unicorn's_ patchy looking ceiling. "I wouldn't be the man I am, if I didn't know about that." 

 

"Indeed you wouldn't." Jack sighed in agreement, a wry smile twisting his lips mockingly. "So, General Black, what's new with UNIT these days, still mucking things up for MUD?" 

 

Harry blinked at the rapid shift in conversation before realising that Jack might be as equally unhappy with the direction of conversation as he had been. He narrowed his eyes in hard suspicion, Jack Harkness was reputedly not a man to make unnecessary small talk and so had a reason for asking about UNIT and MUD. A reason Harry was hardly going to indulge.

 

"Nothing that would interest the Commander of Torchwood." Harry replied cooly, tilting his glass once more watching the white foam slide down the glasses interior. His gaze flickered up and caught the baby blues of the Captain, a mocking smirk on his lips. "What's been going on with Torchwood recently, if scuttlebutt's to be believed you've recently had a run in with a few faeries." 

 

Harry could remember a time when faeries had been the laughing stock of the wizarding world but recent legislation had the Fae up in arms over new ministerial regulations on inter-dimensional travel, restricting the Fae in their movements between Earth and the Fair Kingdom on the second plane of existence. Naturally Torchwood had unwittingly blundered into the middle of a delicate situation and messed it up and destroyed half the Fae population, Hermione hadn't been impressed.

 

Jack, having no idea of Harry's thoughts, shrugged idly. "Nothing we couldn't handle." He drained the last of his beer and placed the glass a little too briskly upon the heavy wooden table that sat between Harry and himself. Jack grinned brightly and made to gesture the bartender over for a refill. 

 

Harry interjected with a swift rip post. "And it never occurred to you to contact the magical ministry for aid? Because the Fae are our jurisdiction after all and you've been stepping on far too many toes recently, Harkness."

 

Jack froze mid-gesture and turned from the unconcerned bartender who was being harassed by another patron. "Torchwood is free of all ministerial red tape." He replied slowly, unsure if he wanted to piss off the man in front of him, he had no idea if his condition would prevent a pissed off wizard from having a homicidal killing spree. He didn't really want to find out either.

 

Harry rolled his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, almost letting his empty beer glass slide from his lax fingers in his vexation. "Americans, really, I hate the lot of you." He muttered.

 

"I'm not an American." Jack objected.

 

Harry shot him a poisonous glare which promptly shut the complaining Captain up. "So not the point." Harry replied dryly, amused by the Captains impression of a four year old. "For your information the Ministry of Magic was part way through a diplomacy meeting at the time of your... irresponsible response. The Fae involved with the unlawful capture of innocents would have been tried and acquitted in the Magical courts." 

 

Harry paused, allowing the diatribe to sink into Jack's slowly panicking brain. "In addition to your course of action, which might I add has set back Human-Fae relations by about a hundred years, you have single-handedly wiped out about half their race. 

 

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't drag you in on attempted genocide charges, as well as unlawfully interfering with a Ministerial diplomacy venture and endangering the human races which inhabit this fifth plane of existence with your gun-ho attitude." Harry's expression was severe and unamused.

 

Jack was sweating heavily where he sat and looked a bit like a deer in the wand-light, eyes wide with horror as he took in the repercussions of his inadvisably poor handling of a magical-humans interrelations matter. "Ah." 

 

Harry inclined his head in silent agreement, gesturing with languid movements for the bartender to attend them both with new pints of beer. The young girl moved with ridiculous speed, hastening over to their sides with hopeful smiles and fluttering eyelashes, her lips pouting attractively as neither man payed her any attention.

 

Jack finally sighed heavily and nodded with deep gravity. "I cannot imagine the trouble I have caused you, nor your Ministry, and I understand the consequences for my actions and I plead guilty on all charges; however, that being said, it is within my jurisdiction to intervene when innocent lives are at stake and given another chance I would act as I already have."

 

"At least your consistent." Harry sighed. "It hardly matters, the Fae are living on limited time anyway, much as UNIT are if they do not stop pulling foolish stunts." 

 

Jack cocked his head, watching Harry weigh his dead mobile in one long-fingered hand. "How do you mean?" He asked curiously. He could hardly think of a reason for UNIT to be in trouble, Martha Jones was watching over them, what more did they need?

 

Harry sighed and slid the wafer thin black metal case into the pocket of his jeans with negligent care, taking a swig of his new pint as he did so. "I'm sure you remember the Sontaren threat?" He stated finally.

 

Jack nodded, wondering just where this was going.

 

"They, UNIT that is, have salvaged teleportation technology from a damaged ship that was wrecked on the east coast of Ireland some three weeks back. After a bit of jiggery-pokery UNIT techs have a teleport in working order." Harry finished tiredly, rubbing his eyes with a forefinger and thumb, the skin of his eyelids sliding over his eyeballs irritatingly.

 

Jack frowned. "Well I can't see how that could mean UNIT has limited time. They'll need the base codes of course-"

 

He was cut off by Harry's short retort: "they don't have one."

 

Jack's face whitened in shock. "But they need one!" He yelped in an undignified manner.

 

"I know that, you know that, my colleague who's been attached to project Indigo knows that, but apparently UNIT higher-ups don't care." Harry said sourly.

 

Jack groaned, tilting his head back to thud heavily against the high back of his leather chair. "Not good."

 

"Thankfully it's been declared 'not working'," Harry continued. "With any luck the project manager will wise up soon enough." 

 

And the chances of that?" Jack asked humorously.

 

Harry grinned back briefly, a short lightening of his features that cause his eyes to glow and his teeth to blaze whitely between stretched lips. "I give them ten percent, unless that's too optimistic?" He joked lightly, the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders for a moment. 

 

Jacks breath had caught as Harry had grinned so brightly and cheerfully and for the first time ever, Jack found himself cursing his interest and relationship in Ianto. Ianto was so fleeting, lovely to be sure, but there would be eventual heartbreak and sorrow for Jack, as there had been the last time he had a monogamous relationship with someone. Ianto wouldn't live much beyond ninety years of age, but the man across from him, Harry, already thirty years old and no older appearing than any good looking teen. Harry was a man that Jack could have forever with and actually mean it, and wasn't that just the most remarkable of things?

 

"I know what you're thinking, Jack Harkness, and it will never happen." Harry said, his tone serious. Harry might not discriminate in his sexual relationships, but he preferred to have his partners to be both healthy and sound, and Jack Harness was neither of those things. He was too old, had seen too much and wouldn't respect Harry as he, Harry, needed to be respected.

 

Jack shuddered and inclined his head in respect, there were very few reports about the second wizarding war, and none of them were easily read. He knew exactly what the man in front of him was capable of. And what he wasn't. Harry smirked once more and drained his pint with ease. Sweeping his green eyes across the bar, Harry stood, his six foot frame unfolding like a bean-pole.  All lean muscle and clean lines, his youthful face harsh under the electric lighting and Jack wondered where the younger man was off too with such a cold expression.

 

"I'll be off then." Harry announced unnecessarily, he pinned Jack with hard eyes. "Perhaps we shall meet again some time."

 

Jack nodded idly, watching the other leave with long loping strides, the younger man was clearly used to having to cross uneven ground at a fast pace. Not surprising if you knew about the man concerned. Harry Potter was synonymous with heroic acts in the wizarding world, a status that Harry had earned through blood, sweat and tears. Jack tilted his glass in an absent salute, far too late for Harry to catch as he slipped like a black wraith from the pub, the golden light of _the_ _Unicorn's_ table candles flickered on the clear surface of Jacks glass. Jack downed the last mouthful and stood with long-limbed ease and dropped a tenner on table as he rolled out of the pub. His own stride wolfishly graceful and the bartender watched him go with a sad expression of one who's night hasn't turned out the way they wished.  

 

Outside the usual Friday crowd cheerfully watched as a youth of about twenty saunter off into the dark night, his graceful lope causing more than one 'cougar' to watch with speculative eyes, when the youth was quietly followed by another man, around ten years older and wearing period dress, and all interest in either was dropped. The streets were illuminated with the harsh light of electric bulbs and from the steel grey sky fell a soft drizzle that would eventually drive even the most enthusiastic smoker inside; as the wind from Cardiff Bay picked up and swung the old sign, the prancing unicorn dancing in the fading light of the cool spring evening.    

 


	2. Second Chances: Somewhere in London (June 2008)

 

 _Only London could be invaded by the salt and pepper shakers of doom_ , Harry thought sardonically as he fired yet another useless stunner at the flying tin robot. The thin reedy voice of the pepper shaker look-alike went unheeded in the mêlée of spell fire and bolts of luminescent green energy that hurt like a bitch and was invariably fatal; unless of course, you were a man called Harry James Potter. Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation at the frivolous and useless exercise this UNIT organised 'defence' attempt was turning out to be, and with reflexes honed by living a life dedicated to warfare, ducked behind a blue skip with a smooth rolling action, his green eyes scanning the sky for another target. 

 

Harry had no idea where he was, only that he was in east London and the street he was currently standing on was littered with broken robots; apparently a common blasting curse would work on the merciless beings, albeit not particularly well. As  this kind of destruction required no less than four or five curses to be in any way effective. It was dark as the Earth had been stolen and shoved into new universe, if the scientists on the telly were to be believed. Which Harry was understandably taking on faith as there were twenty-six new planets in the sky and no sun. Really, even Harry was reasonably able to shelve his suspicion when it came with such overwhelming evidence. 

 

The salt shaker shrieked about extermination once more and then to Harry's abject horror started to attack the civilian in a nearby doorway of a closed Lyca Mobile shop. The civilians were cringing in the doorway, remarkably alive despite the increasing barrage, the woman screaming in fear, her face a rictus of terror. The shops blue signage had been scuffed and blackened from the continuous explosions and spell fire that had come from both Harry and the evil salt and pepper shakers of doom. In fact, in Harry's estimation, the civilians were lucky to still alive under the circumstances. 

 

 _All the more reason to save their lives_ , Harry admitted to himself silently as he took in the frightened mother who clung to her teenaged son. The boy, no more than fifteen stood firmly in front of the woman, his expression determined as the salt shaker rolled towards them unerringly. _Say what you like about the human race_ , Harry thought with a burst of pride, _but we are a particularly tenacious people_. Harry drew in a fortifying breath, steeling his nerves under the knowledge that he was assuredly going to die once again and stepped clear of the blue skip, extending his wand arm out in a traditional duelling position, one that admitted the duellers respect for his opponent. Regardless of Harry's position, he couldn't help but see the determination and cruel efficiency of humanity's would-be-rulers. The salt shaker turned to him and its glowing blue eyes talk seemed particularly pitiless and uncaring of his plight as humanity's defender. _Here goes nothing_ , Harry thought grimly.

 

There was a flash of green light and everything went dark once more, pain exploding in every cell and nerve ending, the screams of terrified civilians echoing in his ears.

 

 

 

It was cold, the strong street lights beat down directly upon his closed eyelids and Harry groaned, struggling upright  in order to take in his position. After his customary pat down of his limbs and various extremities to ensure that they were all in working order, Harry was able to conclude his status. Which was alive, in a gutter, and generally speaking, relatively healthy. The civilians and salt shaker had disappeared, presumably to the mother ship, wherever that was; because in Harry's illustrious opinion, there was no way in hell that the salt and pepper shakers of doom were of Earth origin. Harry knew, intimately, most things that could kill you on Earth as he had encountered most of them over his twenty year stint as a MUD operative. These salt and pepper shakers were like nothing on Earth, and given that Harry worked for an organisation that dealt with extraterrestrial life he was inclined to believe that the salt and pepper shakers of doom were alien. 

 

Not for the first time, Harry made a mental note to not leap into a situation without thinking, blatantly ignoring that he'd made this affirmation at least half a dozen times before without much success or follow through; in fact Hermione would find his affirmation hilarious and would undoubtably start a staff betting pool on the odds of such a decision lasting, his exploits the stuff of legend among the MUD employees. Personally, Harry found Hermione's humour to be somewhat lacking at times, no matter how correct she might be. 

 

Disregarding his various aches, pains and colourful bruises as he staggered down the street in search of more salt and pepper shakers to destroy, as he did so, Harry tried to avoid looking at the vaporised Lyca Mobile shop where the civilians had once stood, his guilty psych unable to take yet another image with which he could torture himself with at night. Not that this avoidance would actually stop the nightmares, but at least he'd tried. 

 

 

 

 _Jack was so going to pay for this I'm not even supposed to be here_ , Harry mentally complained as he turned down yet another narrow east London street, the brick houses towering like giant boxes above his head, after all he'd only been in London on a favour for the Captain, as Jack had heard some rumours regarding an invasion. Ironic as it might be, Harry felt very disgruntled that he was stuck in the very thick of said alien invasion when he could have been safe and sound in Hampshire, where he was based for MUD. It had been Hermione's idea, as Hampshire was hardly the base of anything significant and was supposedly a good 'rest' place for over active agents. She'd kill Harry if she ever found out he'd been in London for this situation, of course, going on the various reports on the television and radio, the invasion was world wide and not central to the capital of the United Kingdom. A novel idea to be sure, Harry smirked to himself, still, he'd meant to stay out of trouble. Really he had. _Yeah_ , he thought sourly turning yet another corner onto another identical street, _Hermione was going to kill him_.

 

Harry narrowly avoided discovery by a salt shaker as it patrolled the narrow road, the robot was well illuminated with the light from the street lamps and it was apparently reading the nearby civilians their rights according to the 'Dalek' empire; Harry had no idea what a Dalek was, but he hazarded a guess that's what the salt and pepper shakers of doom were actually called. Watching the Dalek's arrogant movements in the centre of the street, Harry raised his wand in preparation to blow it seven ways to hell. He had already blown up three of its fellows, and this one would make for number four, not a bad result for all of half an hours hunting. Readying his magic, Harry took in a deep breath and leapt forwards. Shooting five _reducto's_ simultaneously was not an easy feat, and Harry was remarkably proud of his achievement when a second Dalek appeared, it did not look impressed. _Shit_ , Harry mentally groaned, and prepared to be zapped into undeadification once more. This would hurt like a bitch.

 

"Exterminate!" The Dalek declared and shot a bolt of green light at Harry, who ducked at the last minute. He felt reasonably assured that this was the correct decision as the sizzling bolt soared over his left shoulder, trailing heat across his cheek and ear.

 

" _Reducto_!" He roared in reply, shocking the pepper shaker with his successful retaliation as his overpowered spell blasted the pepper shaker of doom into oblivion. 

 

The wisps of white smoke curled above the shakers defeated form as Harry smugly swaggered off down the road, sure, the salt and pepper shakers of doom were winning this battle, but he was assuredly winning the human race the war. Or so he liked to believe. Before him the black bitumen road curled out of sight behind a tall narrow brick house that occupied the corner of the street. On the side of the road, tall trees in all their dark green glory waved and danced in the non-existent breeze, showering splashes of golden street light upon the cool pavement as they moved. It was cold as they had been without the sun for nearly a day now by Harry's reckoning, however, despite this chill a sheen of sweat had broken out upon his brow as he jogged down the road looking for yet more Dalek's. He really was going to kill Jack for getting him into this mess but first he had a war to win.

 

 

 

Harry wasn't sure what had happened, one minute he'd been sprinting down Mile End road to save the lives of three incautious civilians who had decided to take a night time jaunt to safer ground, or possibly to check on their friends of family nearby when the Dalek's had suddenly retreated. It was then that Harry had done something inadvisably stupid. He'd run at the flying salt shaker of doom and caught onto the creatures eyestalk and held on tightly his thin body falling in between the Dalek's blaster and suction cup. There had been a moment of dislocation as the Dalek had been ported onto a nearby battleship and then Harry had been fried. He had fallen free of the Dalek onto the bridge of a spaceship where he had been interrogated by the salt and pepper shakers of doom.

 

 _Electrocution followed up by blaster was a bad way to go_ , Harry decided as he sat up. His head was pounding something awful while a bad taste resided in his mouth, coughing heavily, Harry felt something detach in his torso and he wheezed with sudden pain.

 

"Fuck me but that wasn't pleasant at all." Harry groaned, falling backwards once more.

 

"I wouldn't imagine so, was there a reason why you were in the middle of space without a space suit?" Jacks voice asked.

 

Harry lurched to his feet with surprising speed, swaying drunkenly as his blood rushed post-haste to his brain. "God fucking dammit Jack!" He snarled, staggering forwards, ignoring the other people standing around watching him and Jack with concern. "You had to send me to fucking London didn't you?!" He demanded, punching Jack solidly in the nose, sending the bone back into Jack's brain. 

 

Two of the women screamed in shock at the sudden violence while one of the men a tall, skinny, brown haired man had muttered: "well that wasn't at all friendly." Harry rolled his eyes and ignored the gathering once more, as no one had approached the wizard with anger management issues, apparently content to let the two immortals duke it out in front of them. Harry thought that this was a very human thing to do and returned his attention to the slightly-dead man who lay prostrate on the floor.

 

Jack's eyes snapped open as shock overrode his system in correlation to his last memory. Jack sat upright and stared cross eyed up at Harry. "You killed me." He stated in shock. "You. Killed. Me!" 

 

"Fucking arsehole, you sent me to fucking London!" Harry growled at the other man who winced once more. Harry bared his teeth in anger and leant down to snatch up Jack's collar, hauling the other man to his feet. 

 

"You can't die Jackie boy, get the fuck over it." Harry advised the other man blandly. "You know you done wrong by me." 

 

Jack pouted. "That's not the point, it hurts!" 

 

"Damn fucking right it does!" Harry roared suddenly, his fingers knotting in Jack's coat. Harry fixed his blazing green eyes onto Jack's blue ones and leant in closely to the Captain, anger tainting his voice. "Fifteen time in the past twenty-four hours! I died fifteen fucking times, Jack!"

 

Jack winced and held up his hands either side of his body, trying to appear nonthreatening. "Harry-"

 

He was cut off as Harry shoved him backwards and whipped out his wand, a cruel expression on his face. The tall, thin, brown haired man leant in curiously before being pulled backwards by a darkly muttering red headed woman who reminded Harry all too forcefully of Mrs. Weasley. Jack yelped and dove behind a nearby pillar that looked like it was made out of yellow plaster while Harry's boots clicked menacingly on the metal grating as he stalked the Captain with vengeful eyes, wand extended.

 

"Please Harry, I'm sorry!" Jack shouted pleadingly, his hands briefly appearing either side of the pillar in the universal sign of surrender before he yelped and retracted them out of harms way once more. "I had no idea! Honest!" 

 

Harry ground his teeth in fury. "And that makes it all better, does it?" He asked snidely, moving closer to the other man, green eyes burning in his fury.

 

"It's not like you can die either!" Jack howled in terrified justification and Harry paused in incredulous shock.

 

"That's your excuse?" He demanded as there was a stunned silence from the listening group who were watching the drama with horrified fascination. "That I cannot die and so it's fine to send me into an impossible situation?"

 

Jack winced from where he was hiding. "Someone had to protect London!" He shouted at Harry, hoping to drive sense into the wizards thick skull. "Please don't curse me!" He pleaded again, unable to help himself.

 

 

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation, no longer truly angry and heaved a heavy sigh of acceptance at Jack's words. They were true after all, someone did have to protect London and none were more qualified than he. Harry sighed again, ignoring the bemused expressions of the watching gathering as his green eyes dulled, his magic no longer his system. Temporarily tucking away his wand back up his sleeve, Harry reached around the pillar and pulled Jack out by his ear a stern expression on his face. With calm movements Harry straightened Jack's lapels and straightened the older mans nose with a tap of his wand. 

 

"You owe me a fuck load of beer," Harry informed the Captain blandly as he took in the other mans appearance. "You look like you've been broiled alive, mate." He noted without concern.

 

Jack shrugged unconcerned. "I may have climbed out into a incinerator, it's no big deal." He said in a completely blasé manner.

 

"Naturally." Harry agreed as he rolled his eyes in ever present exasperation. "In your coat as well, your damn lucky I put a charm on it for you." Harry shook his head in exasperation before pausing

 

"I'm sorry, but is anyone else confused? What just happened?" A woman with grey streaked brown hair interjected, her blue eyes taking in the wild black haired youth with brilliantly green eyes and Jack Harkness' broad grin. "Who the hell are you?" She demanded of the youth.

 

"Ah yes, sorry." Jack interjected swiftly, throwing an arm around his drinking companion, causing the woman's eyes to narrow in suspicion. "Harry Black it is my great pleasure to introduce you to Sarah-Jane Smith, companion to the Doctor, Harry here is another immortal, rather like myself." 

 

Harry's eyes widened in pleasure at the name, and he grinned slightly having ignored Jack's addition regarding his status as an immortal. "A true pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Sarah-Jane, I am a great fan of your work." Harry said ducking from beneath Jack's arm and sweeping the woman's hand into an enthusiastic handshake. "Your work with the slytheen last year was fantastic!" 

 

Sarah-Jane blushed lightly. "And would you be the General Black on attaché with UNIT?" She enquired slyly, having recognised the young man's name. Harry grinned cheerfully, releasing Sarah-Jane's hand and ducking beneath Jack's companionable arm.  

 

Jack laughed loudly in response, replying, "can't slip a trick past her, can we, Harry?" 

 

Harry shook his head ruefully. "Apparently not." He agreed, smiling at Sarah-Jane. "And yes, I am." He added in confirmation.

 

"I had heard rumours that General Black was incredibly young, but even I didn't credit the tales telling of you being twenty!" A darker haired woman exclaimed in surprise, her dark eyes roving Harry's face with curiosity. "You were responsible with the new treaty regarding the Fae, aren't you?"

 

Harry nodded slightly. "I am." He eyed the young woman curiously, wondering who she was Harry turned to Jack and cocked his head sideways. Despite only knowing Harry for a few months, Jack found the younger man incredibly easy to read and so was easily able to interpret the silent gesture.

 

"Harry, meet Doctor Martha Jones of UNIT." Jack said with his trademark broad grin stretching his lips; sidling closer to Harry, Jack wondered how Harry would take his next words. Harry was notorious for stepping back and allowing others claim the fame and glory, the younger man was quite modest despite everything that had happened to him, or perhaps, because of it all, Jack silently acknowledged, knowing that his own reaction would have been quite different had he been in a similar situation. 

 

"She's a fan of your other life too, though she's unaware of you actually being Harry Potter." He said in an undertone to the bemused wizard. Harry blinked rapidly for a moment, not quite able to credit Jack's words honestly where they were due. 

 

Harry raked a hand through his hair and smiled at the dark skinned woman, having heard of Martha's own exploits in the field of revolutionary medical science and UNIT protocol. "A pleasure, Miss Jones." He said honestly, Martha's own returning smile was enough to light up her face with recognition of returned respect and admiration. They were all the principals of  change in their respective organisations and all deserved and acknowledged each and every piece of respect they were accorded. 

 

Harry then turned to stare in curiosity at the two blonde who were so similar that they could only be related, probably mother and daughter, and behind them stood a tall dark skinned man with hard eyes and an oversized gun in his hands.

 

"Jackie Tyler, this is my daughter Rose Tyler and a friend of the family, Micky Smith." The older blonde said helpfully, a small smile on her face. "We're not from around here." 

 

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise and he sniffed the air slightly. "You smell human." He said in bewilderment, having activated the charm that Hermione had developed and enforced upon all MUD operatives. The charm, Olfactous, was responsible for the enhancement of all olfactory senses; giving each operative the sense of smell of a wolf, the ability to taste individual materials and elements like a snake could and the sight of a raptor, able to pinpoint their targets as any hunting bird could. It was extremely useful although had taken a fair amount of time to get used to. Indeed several of their operatives had forgotten to remove the charm upon entering Diagon Alley, the explosion of sight, sound and smell outside a contained area had promptly overridden their other senses and driven them insane at the overload. It had been a severe learning experience for every MUD employee with the spell being classified as 'Dark' shortly after and the Ministry of Magic closely monitoring its use.

 

"No, no, no!" The tall, skinny brown haired man muttered as he shoved his way forwards. He'd been silent up until now but was now concernedly buzzing Harry with a metal instrument that glowed blue. Apparently the idea that Harry might have non-human traits was enough to spur him into action while his beating up of the mans friend hadn't. Harry could only assume the man was alien, no human would act as he had. Behind the tall, skinny man stood a woman with dark red hair who watched with curiosity, the brown haired man's twin or probable clone standing beside her.

 

"You shouldn't be able to do that. Humans can't do that!" The brown haired man complained as he switched the settings on his sonic device agitatedly only to receive the same results as Harry being a 'human being'. "How did you do that?" 

 

Harry smirked, and Jack grinned even more broadly at the sight of the familiar expression on Harry's face that spoke of a verbal ego puncture about to be deployed. "Ah, but I'm not human." Harry said idly, carefully drawing his wand unobtrusively. "And if I were you, whoever you are, I would remove that sonic device from my face before I lost it."

 

The man blinked and then scowled. "What do you mean you're not human!" He said clearly confused. "You register as human!" 

 

Harry rolled his eyes and then spoke as if to a five year old. "I am human, well I'm not, but I am. I'm not a _Homo Sapiens Sapiens,_ which is the classification for a normal human."

 

Jack blinked. "You're not?" He asked confused, when had that happened and why was he only hearing this now.

 

"Recent research, blame Hermione, she wanted to know why we are.... different. Apparently we have an extra section in our brain evolved for the use of... our difference." Harry said carefully and vaguely, incredibly conscious of the non-magical human's who populated the nearby area. He really didn't need another run in with the Ministry regarding the Statute for Secrecy, he was already on his tenth warning. Jack smirked at Harry in understanding, apparently having deduced Harry's concern and knowing what was to occur next.

 

"Technically I'm of the _Homo Sapiens Magus_ species." He explained to the still confused brown haired man.

 

The mans eyes lit with understanding and he started to scan Harry again with renewed enthusiasm. "A wizard!" He exclaimed excitedly. "I love wizards, well, mostly. You lot tend to be a bit arrogant, if you don't mind me saying. But you'll change eventually, thanks to your 'saviour'," Harry was a little affronted that the brown haired man had said saviour complete with air quotes. It was as though his sacrifices meant nothing to this man. "Harry Potter." The man rattled on, Harry's eyebrows rose in shock as the man completely disregarded the fact that he had just broken at least twenty ministerial rulings regarding the Statute of Secrecy, the Statute Regarding Reasonable Knowledge for Foreign Life Forms and twenty other legislative rules.

 

"What am I going to do?" He asked blankly, exchanging a bemused glance with Jack. "And I'm really not looking forward to returning to the Ministry..." He trailed off while Jack tried to restrain his laughter, Jack had known this was going to happen. The red haired woman and Martha were in shock as they listened to the brown haired man's verbal vomit, Harry could relate, he was in shock himself.

 

The Doctor paused, "you?" He asked surprised pausing long enough to stare at Harry's forehead in sudden consternation. Understanding far too much, far too late.

 

"Me." Harry agreed, shooting the man a concerned look.  "Is he completely sane?" Harry asked Jack bemusedly on the side, peering at the tall, skinny man's shocked expression. "He doesn't look completely sane." Harry added calmly, returning his wand to his sleeve, assured that there was no longer a threat to his personal safety. He'd had a bad experience with a sonic device once, not the least of which had been the laser device, personally Harry regarded all sonic and laser devices as cheating. But that was only in his opinion, Hermione was ridiculously attached to her sonic pen.

 

Jack shrugged in reply. "He's the Doctor." 

 

The words were spoken as if they were self explanatory, and, if you knew the Time Lord, they really were. The Doctor was still staring at Harry with a shocked expression, as if he was seeing a personal hero for the first time, beside the suddenly flustered time lord, Rose and Sarah-Jane hid smiles behind their hands, both remembering their own experiences with the Doctor when they had worn that expression. It was always amusing for the shoe to be on the other foot.

 

"Really?" Harry asked in gleeful surprise, whipping out his wand and pointing it squarely at the Doctor's body and shooting a lilac spell at him. The Doctor let out a shocked yell as the spell coalesced around his chest and illuminated two pulsating organs, the sound of a double heart-beat emanating from the glowing light as though from a long tunnel. "You are too!" Harry's voice was jubilant. Jack was bemused.

 

Several more spells were shot in swift succession and Harry's mutters filled the room. Jack watched in bemused interest and he grinned at Rose and Sarah-Jane's expressions of discontent. No one was able to do anything like this to the Doctor without them wanting to protest, violently. The Doctor was staring at the wizard with a shocked expression as he was treated like a particularly interesting science project, the time lord clearly had no idea how he should react to this situation.

 

"Hm, is this a new incarnation?" Harry asked, seemingly out of the blue. "You appear to have released regeneration energy recently." 

 

The Doctor gaped. 

 

"No, I'd say not." Harry murmured as he shot a spell at the Doctor look-alike. "One heart, a clone perhaps? Or some genetic mutation?" 

 

"A biological meta-crisis actually," the Doctor replied in bewilderment.

 

"Biologically meta-crisis?" Harry asked, his green eyes sharp and glowing with suppressed power. "How interesting, I mean, it's been theorised that a time lord under due stress with enough regeneration energy might be able to replicate themselves, however it was always assumed they'd need another receptacle."

 

The Doctor blinked in shock. "We do, well, I did. It's never been done before."

 

"Christmas Day!" Harry said swiftly snapping in fingers with sudden realisation. "Jack said you'd lost your hand. I always assumed that meant you were one handed..." Harry trailed off and eyed the time lords arms. "Interesting."

 

"Why do you know this?" The Doctor asked. "How do you know this?" The questions were plaintive in their lack of understanding.

 

Harry grinned brightly and broadly, a pure expression of anticipatory joy. "It's all theoretical." He assured. "But we're trying to replicate the effects of cellular regeneration energy that time lords use each time they regenerate."

 

The Doctor frowned, not likening where this was going.

 

"The idea being that all the comatose witches and wizards in St. Mungo's will be able to be restored and rejuvenated with a replication spell. Maybe we'll even be able to regrow lost limbs with it." Harry enthused excitedly. "And if wizards and witches ever come out of hiding we might even be able to extend the favour to the non-magical population as well."

 

The Doctor grinned. "I love humans!" He exclaimed and then paused. "But this knowledge could also be used for ill." The time lords gaze was grave as he took in Harry's earnest expression. "Don't let me down, Harry Potter."

 

Martha had been staring at the Doctor and his enthusiastically bouncing hero, really it was like Shakespeare all over again, with bewilderment. "Magic is real?" She asked stunned. There had been many things she'd assumed she didn't know, nor would she, but magic being real had never really occurred to her.

 

"That's what I was going to ask." A dazed Rose said from behind the red-haired woman.

 

"Well isn't that _wizard_." The red head snarked clearly not believing what she'd just heard. 

 

The Doctor grinned. "Wizard? It's brilliant!" He enthused bouncing over to the woman and pulling her into a tight hug. Having clearly misunderstood her use of the word, Harry felt a little put out by that.

 

"Can I interject briefly?" Mickey said calmly, staring at the scanner that was attached to the centre of the console that took up most of the room they were in. "But we're still in the Medusa Cascade as is the Earth."

 

Harry blinked as the Doctor disentangled himself from the red-head and bounced over to the console. The time lord muttered about it being 'not good' for a bit before calling everyone to attention. Harry leant against the railing beside Jack and watched the proceedings.

 

"Donna." The red head said conversationally from his other side. "Donna Noble, since you didn't ask." 

 

Harry blinked in surprise before sweeping an overly elaborate bow at the woman. "Harry James Black at your service, M'Lady." He said, brushing his lips over her hand, having met women like Donna Noble before, they always reacted well to flirting. Let it never be said that Harry James Potter hasn't learnt anything from his PR sessions.

 

Donna blushed lightly and smiled. "You're quite the charmer aren't you?" 

 

"Jack, stop it!" The Doctor said in a preoccupied manner from where he was talking with Torchwood. Apparently Gwen was _not happy._ Harry didn't feel the slightest bit of pity for Jack, Hermione was by far the worst in comparison, she had no compunction against hexing his balls off.

 

"I didn't do anything!" Jack protested with a plausible degree of innocence. "It was Harry!" 

 

The Doctor looked up and met the wizards innocent green eyes. Seeing the Doctor staring at him suspiciously, Harry held up his hands and smiled as if to say 'who me?' Donna had ruined the act by giggling happily beside him and the Doctor grunted in irritation, despairing that there were now _two of them._ Jack smirked at the younger man proudly and swaggered over to the console, taking over control of something that you had to pump up and down vigorously. Although, Harry was unsure that Jack had to be quite so explicit in his movements. He sniggered when he caught Donna's eyes roving over the Captain's firm rear end and under her suddenly severe expression Harry swiftly rearranged his face to be more appropriate at the bedside of a dearly believed friend who was mortally ill. Donna snorted, unable to stay angry at the irreverent wizard.

 

"So, Doc, are we there yet?" Harry asked cheekily, coming around to stand by the time lord.

 

The Doctor gaped at the wizard in shock. "Stop it!" He suddenly complained, pouting enormously. "You're ruining the image everyone has of you." 

 

Harry rolled his eyes in amused exasperation. "Doctor, I'm a man with as many bad habits as the universe has suns. I drink, I smoke, I have sex with random strangers and have a hell of a lot of fun doing so. I'm also only thirty-five years old, I have a millennium of living left to me, I'm allowed to be childish occasionally, particularly when the first twenty years of my life were dedicated to winning a civil war." 

 

The space ship shuddered as she spun off into space, leaving the Earth revolving on her usual spot, third planet from the sun with the moon orbiting around her. The sounds of jubilation from the many drivers of the space ship died down as they spotted the Doctor and the wizard conversing heatedly in the corner.

 

"That's not the point," the Doctor was arguing unhappily, his brown eyes meeting the unimpressed gaze of Harry who was leaning comfortably against the metal railing.

 

Harry shrugged. "But that's life." He replied, apparently bored with the conversation, he turned to Jack. "You, me, pint of beer?" He asked with a roguish grin that Jack readily answered.

 

"I do believe that we need a pint to celebrate surviving yet another alien invasion." Jack agreed, he then turned to Martha and Sarah-Jane expectantly. "What about yourselves, lovely ladies, shall you come with us?" 

 

Sarah-Jane shook her head. "I have to check on my son, perhaps next time Captain Harkness, General Black." She refused politely.

 

Harry nodded absently, missing Martha's answer as he watched Donna's eyes glow golden briefly. Confused, Harry shot a diagnostic spell at the redhead and felt his heart sink. Donna was going to die, he thought, taking in the woman's contented expression, her mind was going to burn. The Doctor watched Donna with carefully concealed concern, and Harry understood, the time lord knew what was happening and knew that there was no cure. Harry sighed tiredly and turned away, yet another person he couldn't save. As Donna had said, wasn't that just wizard?

 


End file.
